Escape
by maywemeetagain100
Summary: Clarke has just defeated the mountain and realisation hits her. She is engaged, but has kissed another. Clarke struggles with an abusive relationship and convinces herself that she is in love. She needs to be saved, and Lexa may just be the only one who can save her, but can Clarke ever forgive her for what she has done? For betraying her? Will Clarke allow herself to be saved?
1. Chapter 1

Escape

Chapter One

Clarke takes a deep breath, drawing the oxygen into her lungs before shakily pouring it back out. She can feel an unfamiliar presence beneath her fingers. Looking down to see what the foreign object could be, she realises that she is unable to see. She is blind as images from recent months washed over her. Her knees become weak, her eyes flicker as her brain pounds against her skull, trying to break free from the visions she knows are soon to come. She shakes her head frantically, trying to focus on the mission at hand. Static seeps into her ears, preparing for the sound of various voices to invade her ear cavities. Her vision is engulfed by images of black war paint, braided, brown hair, beautiful pink lips and gorgeous green eyes that soften just for Clarke.

The world around her slips away completely and she is standing in front of the woman she fell for, the woman who betrayed her. Clarke notices observes the throne she sits in, the bed she sleeps in and finally; her. She is wearing her war paint, her thick, brown locks tied back into braids, sitting proudly atop her head. Her armour too big for her, weighs heavily on her shoulders, but she shows no signs of pain, of pressure, of weakness. Piercing green eyes could intimidate the largest of warriors, but not Clarke. Clarke finds beauty in pain, fear in bravery, and strength in weakness. She feels safe when she looks into those eyes, the eyes that have captivated her from the moment she entered that tent. She is pulled from her trance by a voice, a voice so soft and warm, she feels she could wrap it around her and be protected from the harsh, winter storms.

"You think our ways are harsh, but it is how we survive."

Clarke doesn't know why she's speaking, what she's saying, but she says it anyway, as if some invisible force is drawing her in closer towards The Commander.

"Maybe life should be about more than just surviving." She should have stopped there.

But she didn't. "Don't we deserve better than that?"

"Maybe we do."

Clarke looks toward the woman as she speaks, not expecting what was to come. As her eyes meet The Commander's, a hand gently collides with the side of her face, pulling her in closer to the woman before her. Clarke almost melts at the touch, but she doesn't have time. Soft lips are placed against her own, eager but gentle, saying so many words. The Commander has been waiting so long for this moment, yet she cares too much for Clarke to rush the kiss the two women are sharing. This moment would be sacred to them for the rest of their lives. Clarke is the first to pull away.

"I'm sorry. I'm, I'm not ready, to be with anyone, not yet."

The Commander nods and Clarke can see the pain in her eyes. This was about more than The Commander just wanting to kiss her, this went deeper. Clarke could see that and she feels bad for lying, she has to leave. She excuses herself from The Commander's tent, stumbling outside, only to fall to the ground in a heap. How could she have done this? Before she can crumble into the dirt, becoming one with the earth, she catches a glimpse of a familiar face. Shit. She quickly gathers herself, pushing up off of the ground and walking towards the slicked back hair and broad shoulders she had learned to love. They meet half way through the gathered tents and bustling crowds.

"Can we get out of here?" A devilish grin spreads wide across his face and Clarke feels uneasy.

"Finn, we're in the middle of a war, can it not wait?"

His grin falls from his face as he places his hand, a little too roughly, around her arm. "This will just take a second." The grin is back.

Clarke nods reluctantly, ignoring the searing pain pulsing through every nerve in her arm. She lets him drag her through the crowds and into the canopy of trees. He walks so fast and Clarke struggles to keep up, tripping over tree roots and falling into dips in the ground. Her knees buckle and the earth slips from beneath her feet as she hits the dirt beneath her, head first. A hiss escapes from between her lips as she feels a tug on her upper arm, lifting her up from the ground. It takes a couple of seconds for her feet to hit the dirt again and she realises that Finn had been dangling her in the air like a rag doll. Another sharp tug on her upper arm encourages her to move and she is sure that her shoulder had been dislocated.

Another yard or so and they come to a stop. Clarke looks around, seeing nothing but trees, until Finn lifts a tree branch, exposing a towering mountain. She forces a smile to spread across her face as Finn once again, tugs at her upper arm, this time, pulling her towards the ground. She winces in pain, focusing too heavily on the feeling, unable to comprehend what Finn was planning paces beside her. She can't see him positioning himself, on one knee.

"Clarke, will you marry me?"

That's it? No apology, no speech. What a coward. She has already decided. She does not want to marry this man, she should say no. She will say no!

"Yes."

He lifts her into the air, squeezing her rib cage until it cracks beneath her skin. She cannot breathe, she cannot think as the world slowly begins to slip from her senses. A weight is lifted from her chest, accompanied by the sound of flesh colliding with bone. She hears a female voice calling out to her but it is too late, she has lost consciousness.

"Clarke!"

"Clarke!"

She is beginning to wake up, the voice is no longer female.

"Clarke!"

She is back at the mountain, her hand on the lever.

"Clarke, we need to do this."

This voice is not the voice she heard at the mountains with Finn. This voice is deeper, male. This voice belongs to Bellamy Blake. She shakes her head, removing the last images of the mountains, Finn and The Commander from her mind. She looks down at her hand, seeing the silver engagement ring on her fourth finger and suddenly wondering where the ring had come from. Had Finn stolen it? Was it his Mother's? His Grandmother's? She looked to her left, seeing the dark brown, almost black, curls that had provided comfort from the day she landed on Earth. She nods at the man and in unison, they pull their hands backwards, taking the lever with them. They had irradiated level five, together. They had rescued their people, together. They had killed every last one of the mountain men, together.

Clarke watches as Octavia and Finn begin to free their people from the leather cuffs they were bound by. Blood covers the floor, the walls and her people. She cannot stand to watch any longer. With their mission complete, and a heaviness in their hearts, Clarke and Bellamy leave the control room, wanting to see the true extent of the destruction they had caused. They received no less as they entered the dining room. The carpet could not be seen beneath the mountain of bodies, some propped up in chairs, expecting dinner. What they received instead was suffocation, searing pain throughout their bodies as the life was sucked from their bodies. Monty had been trailing behind the two, as Clarke stumbles upon a weeping Jasper. He holds Mia's body close to his chest, his voice barely a whisper.

"What did you do?"

Clarke's voice breaks, "We had no choice."

"I was gonna kill Cage, if you'd have just given me one more minute, it would have been over."

Bellamy sees how upset Clarke is by Jasper's words and steps in, his words drowning in sympathy.

"Jasper, they never would have stopped."

The three of them turn on their heels, leaving Jasper to mourn for however long he needs, as they gather their people and start the mile long journey back to their home. Clarke watches her people pour through the gate, her mother on a make-do stretcher, following Cage's search for bone marrow. Lincoln and Octavia walk through the gates, hand-in-hand, they feel sorrow for the lives lost but pride for the lives they saved. Jasper drags his feet across the dirt and over the threshold, into the camp. Raven in Wick's arms, after being injured by the bomb, she hands Jasper's goggles back to him as he thanks her. Finn must have slipped past in the crowd. Monty is the last one to enter the camp, after hugging Clarke, leaving Clarke and Bellamy outside the gates.

Bellamy is the first to speak. "I think we deserve a drink."

"Have one for me."

"We can get through this." His voice is almost desperate.

"I'm not going in."

"Okay, if you need forgiveness, I'll give that to you." Now he is desperate, "You're forgiven."

He pauses, "Please, come inside."

"Take care of them for me."

"Clarke-,"

She cuts him off. "Seeing their faces every day, is just gonna remind me of what I did to get them here."

"What we did! You don't have to do this alone."

"I bear it, so they don't have to."

"Where you gonna go?" He questions, sadness dripping from his words.

"I don't know."

She's honest as she gently kisses him on the cheek and pulls him in for a hug. Without pulling away she whispers, "May we meet again," her voice cracking. She leaves him there, barely hearing him repeat her own words to her. Today, she starts again.


	2. Chapter 2

Escape

Chapter Two

Clarke braces herself, her knife raised above her head as the giant panther strikes. Her eyes are closed tightly, her eyelids glued together in fear. She doesn't know if she will live or die and in this moment, she doesn't think she cares. She hears a whimper and slowly opens one of her eyes to see the lifeless body of the panther hovering over her. As if on cue, the panther crumbles into a heap, falling on Clarke's frail body. She growls, pushing the lifeless creature off of her. Her breathing is heavy as she takes a moment to collect herself. She has no feeling in her hands, her feet or her heart. She feels nothing as she forces the blade into the stomach of her latest kill. She feels nothing as she slits the panther's stomach at home, releasing guts and organs onto the ground beneath her. She feels nothing as she begins to skin the animal, preparing its meat for her first meal in days.

Finishing off her preparation, she clears the leaves away from the dirt, throwing heaps of sticks and twigs into the now empty space. She throws some dry grass on top before beginning to rub two sticks together. The friction causes blisters to form on her thumbs but she does not stop, she cannot stop. Her thumbs begin to bleed, just as smoke begins to appear where the friction is taking place. She laughs to herself and it sounds almost evil as the wood begins to spark. She lowers it to the dry grass until a spark lands on the grass, creating a small flame. She adds dry leaves and wood to the pile and fans it, creating larger flames before standing logs around it, to stop it from spreading too much. A sinister grin crawls across her face as she snatches a slab of meat from the ground beside her. She throws it onto the fire as she sits back to stare into the flames.

Her back against the trunk of a dying tree, her hands involuntary come up to cup her face. She rubs her eyes, hoping to rid herself of the tears that form there slowly. The lump in her throat causes her to let out a loud yelp. She quickly covers her mouth, realising that her hunt for food and eagerness to cook it and fill her stomach has left her out in the open. With no protection. She begins to feel the emotions that seemed to be non-existent just moments ago. She feels sorrow for the life that she has taken. She wonders if the panther had a family. She wonders if their family will now go unfed, because Clarke needed to feed, she still does. Pushing the thoughts of the hungry kittens from her mind, Clarke drags herself to her feet, stumbling over to her make-shift fire.

She pulls the meat from the fire, tearing into it with her teeth. She lets out a hum of pleasure as the meat crawls over her tongue. She takes pleasure in clamping her teeth down on the panther with every slow grind of her teeth. The juices seep onto her tongue, making her tremble. She swallows, ready to take another bite. It doesn't take Clarke long to fill her quickly shrinking stomach. As the last chunk of fresh meat slithers down her throat, she hears something. Rustle, rustle, snap! Clarke jumps to attention, ripping her knife from the dirt beneath her. She holds the silver before her, in a fighting stance. Her legs are spread shoulder width apart and she is crouched slightly. She takes slow, cautious steps towards the source of the noise. She hears nothing as her feet guide her towards a clear lake.

Her stealth is not lost as she creeps towards the water, suddenly noticing how dry her throat is. She hasn't forgotten about the noise and she won't. She just needs a drink. She glares down into the water, so clear, she would be able to see schools of fish, swimming in the bottom of the lake, if it wasn't for her own reflection, blocking her view. She sighs, lowering her only weapon to her side. Shame seeps into her body and takes hold of every bone, every organ.

What she sees, it's not Clarke. This is not who she is. Her hair is stained red, from the many hunted animals she had killed. It is matted, from sleeping in the dirt for so long. She didn't know how long, she had lost track of time out here, in the woods. Her face, smeared with dirt, harboured many cuts and bruises, but this is not new to Clarke. She begins to think, why her? Why had she been the one that Finn had fallen in love with? Why had she been the one chosen to lead the people of the Ark? Why had she been the one to pull that stupid lever? Why had she been the one to fall in love with The Commander? Her sky blue eyes begin to water and she wants to leave, but not before she drinks. She leans in close to the water's edge, lowering filthy hands into the clean water below. The water turns brown from the filth covering her hands, but she brings it up to her lips anyway, gulping the water until she loses breath. She stands, confusion swallowing her as the sounds of the forest slip away. Silence. She turns, to face the barrel of a gun.

"Don't move."

"Bellamy?" Clarke squints her eyes, protecting them from the blinding light of the sun. She takes a step towards him.

"I said don't move!" He yelps, his hands trembling around the gun. "Get her."

Clarke is stunned as two young men grab either of her arms, pulling her towards the man with the gun. She begins to struggle, but is stopped when the butt of the gun collides with the joints of her knee. She falls to the floor momentarily before being dragged to her blistered feet by the two men either side of her. She looks to them, confusion lacing her features. Bellamy? He was kind of an arsehole when they landed in the dropship, but he is okay now, he looks out for Clarke. He may have just lost himself again but the two boys, they had always been so sweet. Why would they do this to her? She notices that Bellamy is several paces ahead and opens her mouth to speak.

"Monty, Jasper, what's going on?"

Monty shakes his head sadly, "Chancellor Finn requested we come find you and bring you home."

"Chancellor Finn?" How could this happen? Clarke is devastated. She thought it was bad before…

"A lot has changed since you left us, Clarke." It is Bellamy's turn to speak now, and Clarke doesn't appreciate the direct dig towards her. "Finn has been appointed Chancellor."

"I get that." Clarke responds, with a roll of her eyes, "But how?"

"Everyone believes that he destroyed the mountain," Jasper scoffs, "And those who don't, were bullied into voting for the douche."

"Why does everyone think that?" Clarke questions, her blood running cold.

"That's what he's telling everyone. With you gone, there's no one to question him. It's mine and Monty's word against his and you know how much your mum and Kane adore him." Bellamy turns his nose up as he speaks. "They think he's so perfect."

Clarke gulps, tears slipping down her cheeks at the realisation of what this means for her. Finn has no evidence but neither do they, it was impossible for their people to see Clarke and Bellamy from the control room. He will punish her for leaving and she hates Bellamy for listening to him. She hates Bellamy for not sticking up for her, for himself. She hates Bellamy, but she should hate Finn. Bellamy has never hurt her, in anyway, yet she hates him because she can't hate Finn. Clarke drags her feet through the dirt in the woods, the boys no longer holding onto her so tightly. She sees Bellamy's jaw clench and guesses that he must be thinking.

"What are you thinking about?" Clarke asks, unable to contain her curiosity.

"Nothing." His voice is so icy, so cold that Clarke decides not to press any further.

What Clarke doesn't know, is Bellamy is thinking of her. He's worried what will happen to Clarke when she returns. He wonders how Clarke will react when she finds out what Finn has been doing while she's been gone. He worries for Clarke's physical and mental wellbeing. He hates himself just as much as Clarke hates him. He didn't want to come and find Clarke, he'd rather be at home with Octavia. It's not that he doesn't care about Clarke, it's the exact opposite, she needs space and as long as she's away from Finn, she's safe. Pulling himself from his thoughts, he speaks.

"It's getting dark, we should rest."

No one says anything as the boys begin to set up their tents and Bellamy does the same. He fumbles with the fabric, frustration evident in his expression. He cannot fix this thing. Clarke chuckles quietly to herself, walking over to Bellamy and silently extending her hand. Bellamy looks up at her, exhaling, as he hands over the tent. With one sharp flick of her wrists, the tent is up. She sends a smug smile hurling towards Bellamy as he huffs and begins securing it to the ground. Clarke takes it upon herself to pull two sleeping bags from Bellamy's bag, launching one at the man's head. He chuckles, pulling the fabric from his face and Clarke allows herself a small smile. He gestures towards the tent, mockingly taking a bow.

"After you, Sky Princess."

Clarke smacks him round the back of the head before clambering into the open tent, Bellamy not far behind her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't bring any spare clothes, I didn't realise you'd be this dirty," he chuckles.

The two lay side-by-side as Clarke flicks him in the ear. "Why did you come for me?"

"Clarke-,"

"I don't want to fight, Bell. I just want to know why you didn't stand your ground."

Bellamy is ready for a fight, he doesn't want to talk to Clarke about this. Then he looks at her, and sees the pain in her eyes. She doesn't want to know, she needs too.

"Ever since you left," he sighs, "Finn thinks he can do what he wants, have anything he wants. He's relentless Clarke. He's Chancellor and anyone who disobeys his orders…"

"What?" Clarke is wide-eyed and afraid.

"Is dead."

Clarke doesn't know why, but she rests her head on his shoulder. She has always felt comfortable with Bellamy. There are no feelings there, her heart belongs to someone else, and she feels that it always has, but Bellamy is like a brother to her. She hopes he feels the same. He doesn't move and Clarke slowly drifts into the most comfortable, yet worst sleep she has ever experienced on the ground. She dreams of Finn proposing, something that should be wonderful, but is terrifying. She dreams of The Commander leaving her alone, in the middle of a battlefield, when she needs her the most. She dreams of pulling the lever with Bellamy. She dreams of orphaned kittens and she dreams of Camp Jaha, under Finn's control, shrouded by destruction.

"Clarke, wake up," she feels someone shaking her.

"C'mon, we gotta go." Bellamy whispers as he pulls her to her feet.

"What's happening?" She croaks, her voice dripping with sleep.

"Just, grab your sleeping bag and meet me outside."

Clarke quickly gathers what little equipment she has, throwing it outside of the tent, for Bellamy to pack. She scrambles out of the tent, collapsing it quickly and helping Bellamy shove it messily into his rucksack. They begin walking, Jasper and Monty only paces behind them. They don't need to hold onto Clarke anymore, they trust that she will not run from them, for their own safety.

"Bell, what's going on?" Clarke's voice is thick with concern.

"We have to be back in two hours."

"But the Ark is a three hour walk from here." She reminds him.

"I know a shortcut."

The rest of the walk to Camp Jaha is spent in silence, all four of the travellers too scared to speak in case it would slow them down. The Ark is in sight and they want to run, the three boys toward The Ark and Clarke, away from it. Clarke finds herself wondering what would happen to them if they were late. She looks down at the watch her father had given her. They have fifteen minutes. All four begin to pick up their pace until they are standing outside the gates. The gates creak open, painfully slowly, to reveal an all too familiar face.

"Hello, my love."


	3. Chapter 3

Escape

Chapter Three

Clarke's heart sinks into her stomach as her brain begins to process the words, the voice. Finn. No, how could she end up here? Less than 24 hours ago, she was free. It may not have been the best circumstances but at least she was away from him. The strange thing is, she loves him, after everything he's done to her, and she still loves him. She knows what's coming, weeks of not seeing anyone but him, lonely nights while she waits for him to come home, not to mention…

Suddenly, she sees a familiar face, one she is happy to see. She barely sees Lincoln barrelling towards her before she is swept off her feet by the bulky man. She giggles uncontrollably as he spins her around in his arms. Between spins, she can see Octavia standing paces away from where Lincoln is causing her dizziness. She shrieks as Lincoln drops her on her feet and she can finally get a good look at the man. His hairless head reflects the early morning sun, his hazel eyes, pouring out words he could never say to Clarke. The two of them had become so close before the war, he was and still is, her best friend. She looks down and what she sees upsets her. Sitting upon his heavy, proud muscles is a guard's jacket, the ones that were worn on The Ark.

Before she can question him about it, Octavia drifts over to Clarke, weightlessly. She opens her arms, allowing Clarke to fall into them. Clarke and Octavia have never really seen eye-to-eye and Octavia had never been one for hugging but she had missed Clarke. The two have an undeniable bond, even though neither of them care to admit it. Clarke takes a moment to appreciate how much Octavia has changed since they landed on Earth. She looks more and more like a grounder every day, not that Clarke cares, and in fact she's probably the only one who doesn't. Her hair is tied back in braids, assuming by Lincoln, her face covered in war paint and a sword strapped to her torso. She hears an irritating sound come from behind her and turns around to see Finn clearing his throat.

"Let's go to our bedroom so we can celebrate your return properly."

Clarke wants to slap the grin off of his face but settles on rolling her eyes, turning on her heel, and walking away from him. She hears what sounds like fingers clicking and Raven and Octavia appear beside her, 'escorting her'. Clarke can feel her blood boiling, she is so angry that he doesn't trust her to walk to their bedroom without running away. She's so angry that she's letting herself be controlled by him. She's angry, because she loves him.

"What the Hell is going on here, O?" She questions, her voice calm. Her problem isn't with Octavia.

"I don't know, Clarke. A lot has changed, Finn has changed."

Clarke almost scoffs at hearing about how Finn has changed. Finn hasn't changed, he never will, he's just finally showing his true colours. Octavia and Raven lead her into a small bathroom, there is a bathtub, barely big enough for one person on the left hand side of the room and a toilet, smeared with shit to the right. The whole room and everything inside is made of stainless steel, and Clarke hates it, it's tacky. Her jaw drops as Raven and Octavia begin emptying buckets of warm water into the bath tub for her. She gasps, preparing to say something when Octavia holds her index finger to her lips as a warning. In that moment Clarke hears footsteps. Finn walks through the door, his head held high, without knocking, wearing nothing but his boxers.

"Okay ladies, you can leave me and my fiancée alone now. It's been a while." He wears a sickening grin proudly across his face.

The women nod apologetically towards Clarke before turning to walk out of the door.

Finn has other plans, he grabs Octavia by the shoulder, stopping her. "You might want to tell your ape to keep his hands off of my fiancée, before I do much worse to him than what has already been done." He grins as Octavia lets out a whimper and quickly walks out of the room.

"What the Hell Finn?" Clarke screams, barrelling towards him as though she is six feet tall.

He catches her wrist, twisting it, before it can connect with his chest.

"Get in the bath," he growls, through gritted teeth.

Clarke lets out a gentle, quiet sob as she slowly begins to undress in front of her fiancé. She can feel his eyes violating her with every item of clothing she removes from her body. She wants to scream, she wants to cry, but she cannot let him see what he is doing to her. As she strips her last item of clothing, she moves towards the bath, not realising until now, how badly she had been craving a bath. As she lifts her leg to step into the bathtub, she feels a pressure on her chest and suddenly falls to the cold floor. She looks up to see Finn, peeling his boxers from his legs, a smug grin on his face. He had pushed her.

She watches as he climbs into the bath, his clean skin feeling the warmth of the water before Clarke's can. He snaps his fingers at her, as though she is his pet, misbehaving, and points toward the inviting water filling the tub. She swallows thickly as she picks herself up from the floor, dragging her now aching body towards the bathtub. She clings to the bar beside the tub for dear life as she hoists her leg over and into the warmth of the water. She barely has time to drag her other leg into the bath before Finn yanks her on top of him, her arse connecting with his member. He lets out a distorted grunt as his hands begin to crawl sensually over Clarke's bare flesh. She tries to push his hands away, feeling uncomfortable with the contact.

"You're dirty!" He snaps, trying to convince her that he had been washing her body.

To emphasize his point, he runs his wet hands through Clarke's mangled hair, and she almost begins to relax at the touch. It feels almost loving, but loving is not Finn. He releases a terrifying laugh, an evil laugh as his grip on Clarke's thick locks tightens. She brings her hands up to protect her head from the pain of the tugging, but he clamps one large hand around both of her fragile wrists as he yanks on her hair. Her neck clicks and she is now facing him, looking into the eyes that she loves so much. How could they belong to someone who has hurt her so much?

He relents slightly, loosening his grip on Clarke's wrists. She gently places them in her lap, giving up the fight with him. He will win, he always does. He can tell Clarke has given up and smirks to himself as he resumes his fondling. His fondling becomes grabbing and tugging, he pinches her breast and Clarke knows she will be left with a bruise. She lets out a quiet yelp and feels a fist connect with the right side of her waist. She has learnt her lesson, she can't react when he is using her body for whatever he pleases. Clarke gasps as she is lifted into the air and pulled back down onto her fiancé's member, but this time, it's inside her. She can hear him grunting as he controls her movements. He doesn't stop until he is completely finished with her, pushing her off of him, and throwing her head into the wall beside the bath tub. He climbs out of the bath, a look of disgust on his face and venom in his words when he speaks.

"Clean your hair," he spits, "and the bath, it stinks of fish."

He leaves the room and Clarke is left in a bathtub filled with semen and blood. She sobs quietly as she begins to use the filthy water to clean her hair. She doesn't know why she puts up with this, it's not her. Clarke has never let herself be controlled, not by anyone, not even her own mother. She's scared that Finn is making her lose herself, and she couldn't even see it until she escaped into the woods. Now she's back, she's letting him do it again and she doesn't know why. She is finished cleaning her hair and moves onto cleaning the bath. She is still unclothed and the cold air is sending chills through her entire body as she leans over the tub, using a cloth to wipe it over.

As she cleans the filth from the tub, she thinks back to what it was like when Finn actually cared for her, when he snuck away from the dropship to bring back pencils for her to draw with. When they snuck away to sleep together for the first time, in an old, buried automobile. He took her virginity that night. When he was the one to make Clarke open her eyes to what had really happened when her father had been floated. When it wasn't Wells, but her own mother who had turned her father in to the council. When he told her he was in love with her. It all started with a small pinch to the back of her neck…

"Clarke! Get in here for fuck's sake! I have a treat for you."

She heard him call from the other room, quickly snapping her out of her trance. She hastily finishes cleaning the bathtub, throwing the cloth across the room, before practically running into the adjoined bedroom. This room is supposed to be shared by the couple, but Clarke can only see Finn's belongings. His clothes, gun and other stupid collectables Clarke deemed useless. She begins to walk over to the drawers, holding what she assumes are her clothes when Finn pulls her into him, smacking her head on the top bunk of the bed. She whimpers quietly, earning herself a hard punch to the inner thigh. He throws her to the floor, commanding her to kneel before him. She does as she is told, in fear of being hurt by him again. He is still naked when he sneers at her.

"Suck it."

Clarke lets out a sob and before she can lean into his groin to obey him, she feels his fist connect with the side of her face. She makes no sound, tears spill down her cheeks as she complies. His disgusting groans fill the space around them again as Clarke takes herself back to a time when she felt safe, protected.

Her mind is filled with images of emerald green eyes, a medium shade of brown, soft lips and flawless skin. She is wearing her war paint again. Clarke is in her tent, speaking with The Commander. She can't make out what she is saying, she is focusing too heavily on her lips. She stares at them, wanting to feel them on hers, wanting to taste The Commander. She looks up into piercing green eyes for mere seconds before her wish is granted. Her lips are on Clarke's and they move rhythmically with her own. She is safe.

A cry of pain pulls Clarke back into the real world. She has no time to adjust before a foot collides with her stomach. She reels over in pain as the next blow comes, this time it hits her ribs. He kicks her over and over and over. He kicks her in her stomach, her chest, her arms, her legs, her neck and her head. Clarke begins to lose consciousness, the last thing she sees is Finn leaving the room, his lower body wrapped in only a towel. She hears him say something.

"How dare you bite me, bitch."

She's slipping, she cannot hold on any longer. The world around her disappears and she is safe.

* * *

Hey everyone, I'm not sure what you're thinking of this yet, but I hope this wasn't too graphic and any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

Escape

Chapter 04

Clarke's eyes fluttered open to the feeling of cold water on her forehead. Every inch of her body is searing in pain. She must have bruises all over her body, not to mention cuts or broken bones. How could Finn do this to her? He had been bad before, but never this bad. Maybe this was Clarke's punishment for leaving The Ark. Maybe he had this planned from the moment he realised she was missing. Her eyes stinging from the sunlight pouring through the window, she looks above her to see what is happening. She sees a woman standing over her, and for a moment she thinks it might be…

"Must have been a nasty fall." The voice didn't belong to her.

Clarke tries to sit up, rubbing her eyes. "Yep," her voice is groggy.

"Cut the crap, Clarke." Octavia. "What really happened here?"

"Nothing, Octavia." She made him mad.

"Clarke, I'm not stupid, I know you," she insisted, "I know when you're lying, so just tell me."

Clarke let a sigh escape from her lips as she finally sits up, "It was Finn."

Octavia's jaw visibly clenches at the name. The two stay silent as Octavia cleans Clarke's wounds. She reaches behind her, pulling something out of a bag that Clarke hadn't noticed until now. A needle and thread. Clarke didn't realise it was this bad, but she's thankful that Octavia came to help her. She keeps her mouth closed as the other woman threads the string through the eye of the needle. Clarke lets Octavia lift her hand into the other girl's lap as she begins to stitch up the gash that ran from the tip of her ring finger, down to the middle of her palm.

"What happened?" Octavia muttered.

"I don't know. The last thing I remember, I had- in my mouth- I zoned out and felt him kick me in the stomach. He kept kicking. I watched him walk out of the room in a towel. He said something about me biting and being a bitch and then I blacked out." Clarke spilled.

Octavia nodded, ripping the thread with her teeth, before tying it. She moves onto the next gash, situated on Clarke's upper thigh, making Clarke look down at what she is wearing. She has on a shirt, miles too big for her, and Finn's boxers. Confusion creeps across her features, and Octavia watches her, feeling the need to explain.

"It's Finn's." Clarke already knows. "You have no clothes in this room, since you won't be leaving, he is adamant that you wear his. No one but him and me are allowed in, you're not allowed out so no one will see you. His words, not mine."

Clarke's jaw clenches and she refrains from speaking. Octavia fills the silence.

"He took Lincoln."

Octavia's face shows no expression. Clarke knows this too and her jaw clenches.

"What has he done to him?" She asks, through gritted teeth.

"He's in Lockup." Her expression is still blank. "Fifty lashes, no food, no water, until Finn sees fit."

Clarke's anger is replaced with sorrow, "because he hugged me?"

Octavia nods and neither of the girls say another word as Clarke's wounds are cleaned and stitched.

Clarke speaks as Octavia stands to leave. "You can't tell anyone, O. I love him."

Octavia ignores her, slinging her bag over her shoulder and leaving a sobbing Clarke, in search of her brother. She walks hastily along the corridors of what was once The Ark, towards the exit. She has to refrain from running as she slips through the threshold, leaving her out in the open. She looks around and sighs. Finn has changed everything. The grass is no longer trimmed, it grows wild. The trees have been cut down to suit his needs, to create his stupid collectibles and the water supply is diminishing quickly, following his daily baths. She spots her brother from across the field and begins a steady tread towards him. She reaches him and opens her mouth to speak.

"Bell, I need to talk to you."

"What's up, O?"

"Not here," she leads him into an empty guard's tent, realising that it's now nightfall.

Bellamy looks at her, confusion lacing his expression.

"Clarke is in trouble." Octavia states, continuing before her brother can speak, "I need you to help me get Lincoln out of Lockup so we can go to Polis."

"Polis?"

"The Commander is the only person Clarke will listen to."

"Finn has all the keys, Octavia. It's impossible," Belly exasperates.

"So you distract him, I grab the keys. Pack a bag for me, I need to go and check on Clarke real quick."

She begins to exit the tent, "and Bell?" She pauses for him to look at her. "No one knows."

Bellamy nods, walking away from his sister to help her with possibly the most dangerous thing she's ever done, but he trusts her. He trusts Lincoln to look out for her. He throws some uncooked meat into the bag along with some make-shift matches, courtesy of Raven, dried fruit, water, sleeping bags, blankets and water. The bag is packed and midnight is approaching. He waits for her inside the tent in which they talked earlier. The flaps of the tent swing open, revealing a flustered Octavia.

"We have to go now, he's just finished in a council meeting," she breathes.

Bellamy nods, jumping to his feet, and follows his little sister into The Ark. They walk briskly down numerous corridors, turning left and right until they reach the council room. They relieve the current guards of their duty and stand, waiting, by the door. They begin to think that Finn had already left until the door swings open and that irritating blue bomber jacket come into view. He walks past them, looking down on the siblings as he struts. Bellamy clenches his jaw, nodding to Octavia as he calls for the boy he would rather pummel to the ground.

"Finn! Can I have a word?"

"What do you want, Bell-end?" The scruffy looking boy teases.

"I just want to know what's happening with the watchtower." Bellamy smiles begrudgingly.

"It isn't even built yet," he scoffs, turning to walk away.

"But, when it is?" Bellamy asks, not skipping a beat.

"When it is, you will be the last to know if you continue like this," he huffs, "now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go and please my fiancée." His grin sends a chill down Bellamy's spine as he continues down the corridor until he is out of sight.

"Did you get them?" Octavia holds the keys up for her brother to see. "Let's go."

The siblings break into a slow, gentle jog towards Lockup. Octavia can barely contain her excitement, she hadn't seen Lincoln since Clarke's return. Bellamy had been the one to tell her what Finn had done to her boyfriend. Finn had delivered the fifty lashes himself, whilst forcing Bellamy to watch as he tortured his sister's lover. Bellamy had been appointed guard from that moment, sneaking in food and water for the grounder, against Finn's orders. Bellamy signals for Octavia to stay put as they reach Lockup. She nods as he walks, back straight and arms swinging by his side, like a soldier, to the gate where the guard stands.

"I'll take it from here, Miller."

The guard nods, walking down the hall as Octavia slips into a crevice between the walls. She cranes her neck, checking that he is out of sight, as Bellamy signals for her to come out. She sprints quietly over to the gate, fumbling with the keys. She tries every key on the hook, until one slips into the keyhole, and she turns it. She bursts into the rooms, her forehead pressed against her lover's through the bars. She once again fumbles with the keys as Bellamy trails in behind her. The padlock falls to the floor and a six foot beast barges through the cage, swooping his lover off of the floor and into his loving arms. He places several kisses atop his lover's head before her brother speaks.

"We gotta get out of here."

Lincoln nods and all three take off in a quiet sprint, taking the back route to the tent in which the siblings spoke earlier. They stop several times, Lincoln and Octavia pressed against the wall, around the corner, waiting for Bellamy to give them the all clear. They continue their sprint until they reach the emergency exit and Bellamy pushes the door open. He checks for guards and, seeing that there is none, he calls for his sister and her lover to run to the tent. They run together, all three panting for breath, until they reach the tent and clamber inside. They allow each other to catch their breath before Lincoln breaks the silence.

"What's going on?"

"I need you to go to Polis with Octavia," Bellamy responds, catching his breath.

"Why?"

"Clarke needs her," Octavia pants, knowing Lincoln will understand who she is referring too.

"From here?"

"Yes," Bellamy answers.

"We can't, there is no way we can travel to Polis from Arkadia on foot."

"So we stop in TonDC, borrow some horses from Indra," Octavia quips.

Lincoln nods, knowing that there is no use in arguing with Octavia. Bellamy hands over the bag along with a needle and thread, and some rubbing alcohol. Lincoln nods his thanks before slinging the bag over his shoulder and grabbing Octavia's hand. They run towards the gap Jasper had created in the fence, hand-in-hand. Lincoln gestures for Octavia to slip through and she does, her lover on her heels. The two do not stop running until they are far enough, so not to be seen by anyone back at The Ark. They slow to a fast walk, their hands intertwined. The two walk in silence until Octavia can stand it no longer.

"How far is the walk to TonDC?" She knows, but wants to make conversation.

"We will be there by dawn," Lincoln replies, "Now what is it you really want to ask?"

"What did he do to you?"

"You already know, Octavia."

"I want to hear it from you," she pleads.

Lincoln stops dead in his tracks, turning to face his lover, "You know, don't make me hurt you all over again. I'm fine, Octavia, just a few scratches. Your brother did worse when he captured me," he chuckles. "That boy does not know how to use a whip."

Octavia smiles half-heartedly, slipping her hand back into her lover's. The two begin to walk at a steady pace and Octavia takes the opportunity to admire the Earth, for the first time since she landed in the dropship. The trees, so tall and full of life, all merge into one, their leaves forming a canopy above their heads. The rustling of leaves and twigs beneath their feet makes her feel alive, for the first time in her life, she can live freely. She no longer has to hide her very existence. She couldn't imagine spending this moment with anyone other than Lincoln. She came here, not only to live, but to love and he proved that to her. He continues to prove his love to her with each passing day. As her eyes focus on the glowing butterflies before her, she loses her balance, tripping slightly, but not enough for her to fall. She is tired and, as though Lincoln senses this, he scoops her up onto his back, his hands holding her in place as she drifts off to sleep.

When she wakes, she is propped up on Lincoln's back, before the gates of TonDC. She slips off of her lover's back, staring up at the eight foot gate, decorated intricately with images of trees and animals. All that Earth has to offer. Her eyes are everted to what is beyond the gates as she sees a thick, burly man approaching. He has a tribal tattoo climbing up the right side of his face and his beard swallows his chin. His hair is as long as Octavia's and braided skilfully. He hauls the gates open to stand face-to-face with the travellers.

" _Linkon kom trikru_ ," he nods his respect, " _Okteivia kom skaikru_."

He signals for the couple to follow him and they trail closely behind. He leads them to Indra, the leader of the clan, and she is the first to speak.

" _Linkon kom Trikru, Okteivia kom Skaikru, chit yu gaf?"_ Indra speaks in her native tongue.

" _Emo gaf in a gapa,"_ The tattooed man speaks for them.

" _Ai op. Mafta ai op."_ Indra commands.

They follow the woman further into the village, nodding their thanks when a majestic, white horse is handed over to them. Lincoln helps Octavia climb on, before strapping the bag to the horse's saddle and climbing on himself. He guides the horse toward the gates but not before speaking one last time. This time, he directs his words towards the bearded man.

"Nyko!" The man looks up at Lincoln, " _ai op yu dena, ai bro."_

Before Nyko can respond, the two lovers are galloping towards Polis. The tread of the horse is heavy and the two bounce with the stride of the horse. Lincoln is positioned behind Octavia, holding her up, should she decide to sleep once more. The two ride in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Octavia thinks of Clarke and her wellbeing. She should not have left her like that, but she was given no choice. She knows that the only person who can save her lies beyond the gates of Polis. She tells herself that the outcome will be worth whatever pain Clarke may go through whilst she is gone. Lost in her thoughts, she drifts off to sleep once again.

This time, when she awakes, she is sitting outside the gates of Polis.

* * *

Let me know what you think, I love reading your comments :)

* * *

Translations:

 _Linkon kom Trikru_ – Lincoln of the Tree People.

 _Okteivia kom Skaikru_ – Octavia of the Sky People.

 _Chit yu gaf?_ – What do you want?

 _Emo gaf in a gapa_ – They seek a horse.

 _Ai op. Mafta ai op_ – I see. Follow me.

 _Ai op yu dena ai bro_ – See you soon, my brother.


	5. Chapter 5

Escape

Chapter Five

Octavia, still heavy with sleep, drags herself from the back of the horse, watching as Lincoln follows closely behind. She stares in awe at the gate, much larger than the one she had laid eyes on in TonDC. The designs, the structure, far more intricate than those she had seen at the previous grounder camps, but this is no grounder camp. This is the grounder capital, the home of their Commander. She does not get much time to appreciate the delicacy of the design or the beauty of the walls before the gates are dragged open, revealing Polis, in all its glory.

As she steps through the open gates, the bustle of markets and grounders fill her ears. The smell of meats roasting infiltrate her nostrils and the sights of crumbling buildings, standing high above their heads cloud her vision. Her feet move on their own as her mind is preoccupied with the beauty that is Polis, even in nightfall. The stone paved floor leads them towards the tallest building in the capital. Two bulky men stand in front of the building, their swords crossed in front of the door, and they make no attempt to move them as the couple approach.

" _Ai gaf chich yu Heda op."_ Lincoln speaks in his native tongue and the two warriors stand aside.

They have been granted access to The Commander's home. The guards give them directions on how to get to the war room, not that Lincoln needs them. He had been to Polis several times when he was under her command. They turn corners and follow walls, Octavia taking in the sights before her. The Commander has several paintings hung on her walls, not much of the wall is bare. Octavia wonders if the rest of The Commander's home is like this, but right now, that is not her problem. Her problem is Clarke, she wants to save her and the only way she knows how, is the Commander.

" _Ai gaf chich yu Heda op."_ Lincoln repeats to the guards outside of the war room.

The couple have gained access once again, only this time, they must come face-to-face with The Commander for the first time since they betrayed her. They stepped into the room, the two guards on their heels, expecting to be shouted at, told to leave, or maybe even sustain an injury, but instead they receive a tired, lifeless question.

" _Chit yu gaf, Linkon?"_

" _Heda_ , Clarke is in danger."

The Commander's ears prick up, like a puppy hearing a toy squeak for the first time.

" _Gonot,"_ she commands and the two warriors slip out of the door. _"Sen daun."_

The couple sit at the far end of the table, watching as The Commander sits at the opposite end. Octavia takes this opportunity to look her over. She has bags under her usually bright eyes and her hair is falling from its braids. Her clothes are dishevelled and they don't look like they belong to her. She is wearing patchwork leather pants, black denim covering what were once holes. They look like they belong to The Commander, but the t-shirt. It is plain white, a colour that The Commander does not wear, it is discoloured slightly, and there seems to be a stain on the right hand shoulder. A stain that can be caused by one thing, and one thing only. Monty's moonshine. The Commander is wearing Clarke's t-shirt, but how did she get it?

"Your thoughts are loud, _Okteivia kom Skaikru._ " The Commander quips, startling Octavia, "She left it in my tent, minutes before we were called to war." Her expression becomes sorrowful at the memory of the mountain and how she abandoned _Skaikru;_ abandoned Clarke.

As if she suddenly remembers who she is, her expression becomes blank as she speaks again.

"You say Clarke is in danger," she states. "Explain."

It is Octavia's turn to speak. "I don't know what's wrong with her, _Heda_. She keeps insisting that she loves Finn, but he treats her like shit. I didn't know where else to go, you're the only one she will listen to. I need you to help her."

"I am not quite sure that still stands, Octavia," she sighs. "Bring me my steed."

The Commander drags herself to her feet, practically crawling from exhaustion, over to a table in the corner of the room. On it, there lay her dagger and her sword in its sheath. She pulls her armour from the wall, hauling it over her shoulder and clipping it into place under her breasts. She shakily lifts her sword and attaches it to her body, silently cursing herself for looking and feeling so weak in front of Lincoln and Octavia. She takes a deep breath and shocks the couple by standing straight and launching her dagger into the air. She watches it spin before gravity takes hold, pulling it downwards. She makes no attempt to catch it and the two onlookers shudder when the dagger falls into the pouch, attached to her thigh. She is ready for war.

The three unlikely musketeers exit the war room, wasting no time in heading for the streets of Polis. Once they reach the thick, crisp night air, Octavia and Lincoln draw in a sharp breath, feeling that no air is as fresh as the air in Polis. No oxygen keeps their hearts beating than the oxygen in Polis. The two regain their composure, noticing that The Commander has already mounted her horse. They begin to dread the walk back to their own until they see, not Indra's horse, but two horses. One is black, sporting a red saddle and long, thick mane. The other, is brown, with a diamond shaped patch of white hovering over his face. He sports a white saddle and his mane is cut short.

"You cannot ride comfortably on the same horse. I had my warriors bring you horses, equipped with fresh food, water and clothes. Nyko has come to retrieve Indra's horse. He has taken it back to TonDC." The Commander states, sitting atop her white stallion, her mane grew longer and thicker than Lincoln's horse and she is wearing a black saddle.

Lincoln nods his thanks as he gracefully hoists himself up onto the black horse, watching as Octavia, slightly clumsier than Lincoln, but not ungracefully, mounts the brown horse. The Commander gently tugs on the reigns, sending the stallion into a slow trot. The others mimic her actions, following their Commander back out into the forest. They watch her carefully, her back straightened and her untidy hair cascading gracefully down her back, the natural curls stopping in the middle. The movement of the horse causes her to sway gently, but not once is she lifted from the saddle. They think that maybe her horse is less clumsy than theirs but really, she's an experienced rider. They ride in silence, at the same pace, for hours before The Commander breaks the silence.

"You say Finn is not treating Clarke the way she deserves to be treated?"

Octavia nods, waiting for The Commander to continue, "How so?"

"With all due respect, _Heda_ , it's not my place to tell you. It's Clarke's business really."

"So, you come to my home, in my _capitol_ , to tell me that Clarke is in danger and you are in need of my help, but it is Clarke's business."

"I'm sorry, _Heda_ , I'm sworn to secrecy." Octavia pouts.

The Commander hums as the sun begins to rise in the distance, they must have been riding for almost three hours. The travellers still have much of their journey ahead of them, but The Commander, tugs on the reigns, stopping her horse dead in her tracks. The couple trailing behind her are startled, bringing their horses to a stop as well. They watch as the woman in front of them slides, elegantly, off of her stallion, pulling a pouch of water from her horse's saddle. The couple assume they are taking a break and slide clumsily off of their horses, repeating The Commander's actions. She places her water pouch back into the stallion's saddle, before bending over to retrieve a coupe of sticks off of the floor. She begins rubbing them together as the two others gather dry leaves, grass and twigs, throwing them into a heap on the ground. After a few minutes, the wood begins to spark and The Commander lowers it into the pile.

Lincoln starts to blow on the sparks, slowly allowing them to spread into a flame as Octavia searches the bag for food. She finds a large slab of uncooked meat and hauls it onto the fire. The Commander sits in the dirt, her back up against the trunk of a tree. Even leaning against something, she somehow manages to keep her posture. The couple sit opposite their Commander, sharing a tree trunk. All three of them stare into the fire, watching the meat cook, as they get lost in their own thoughts.

"Clarke doesn't know you came to Polis," The Commander states.

"No, she doesn't," Octavia admits.

"What reception do you think I will be receiving when I arrive at The Ark?"

"Who knows, _Heda_?" Octavia sighs, "Who knows?"

The meat is cooked and Lincoln and Octavia devour their portions as though they had not eaten in days. Although, they probably hadn't. all the days had rolled into one, they are unsure of when they last ate or slept, all they were sure of is that Clarke needed them to bring The Commander back to them. The Commander ate slower than Lincoln and Octavia, although she too, had not eaten for days. Once they were all finished eating, they stood to stretch their legs and as the women clambered back on top of their horses, Lincoln put out the fire.

It takes another five hours of agonizing silence before Camp Jaha is even in sight, but when it is, The Commander cannot believe her eyes. There were no trees surrounding The Ark, no protection, no camouflage for the _Skaikru._ Tacky, incomplete structures surround the border of the land, drawing more attention to the camp. Who the Hell is in charge around here? The grass is so long, a predator could easily use it to sneak into the camp and kill everyone within its walls. Suddenly, The Commander feels guilty for leaving Clarke here. If it wasn't for her betrayal, Clarke would have been in Polis, with her. Safe, from everything.

Gathering all her strength, she takes a deep breath, before tugging on her horse's reigns. She allows her stallion to trot at a pace she feels comfortable, in no rush to reach The Ark. She fears Clarke's reaction and is here with only Lincoln and Octavia. She knows nothing of the reaction she may receive from the _Skaikru._ Her just being here could spark tension, possibly causing another war. The last person she wants to start a war with is Clarke. Her horse stops outside the gates of The Ark and she looks behind her, to see Lincoln and Octavia several paces behind her.

She sees both familiar and unfamiliar faces staring back at her through the gaps in the fences and her anxiety peaks but she does not let it stop her. She inhales sharply.

" _Ai gaf in Klork kom Skikru!"_

* * *

Translations:

 _Oso don kom op gon chich op Heda –_ We have come to speak to The Commander.

 _Chit yu gaf, Linkon?_ – What do you want, Lincoln?

 _Gonot_ – Leave.

 _Sen daun_ – Sit.

 _Ai gaf in Klork kom Skikru!_ – I seek Clarke of the Sky People!

* * *

Let me know what you think! :)


	6. Chapter 6

Escape

Chapter Six

The Commander's breath hitches in her throat as the gates are opened, revealing the one person she wishes she didn't have to see. Her blood begins to boil and her jaw clenches as his shoulder length, dark brown hair is brushed away from his face, revealing the mischievous glint in his dark brown eyes. The Commander knows that she should not be angry with the boy. She cares for Clarke, yes, but Clarke is not hers and she is not Clarke's. For all she knows, Clarke could hate her. Yet, here she is, standing in front of the boy who is said to have mistreated her only weakness. No matter how hard she tries to contain her anger, her lip curls up into a snarl.

"You have no business being here," the boy spits.

The Commander slides gracefully from her horse's saddle, her eyes now pouring her anger out into his. She wants to speak, but before she can, she recognises the face and build of the body barrelling towards the gathering at the gate. She cannot see what is happening behind her, but she knows, and she holds her right hand into the air, signalling for Octavia to stay on her horse. The man comes to a halt, stopping only paces away from The Commander, and places his hands on his knees to help him catch his breath. His thick curls fall over his eyes as he gasps for air.

"What is it, Bellamy?" The Commander asks, her voice laced with concern.

"It's- its Clarke. She- she's gone," he pants.

Finn sees his opportunity as everyone begins whispering and gasping into thin air, "Seize them!"

The Commander turns sharply on her heel, "Go, now! To Polis, you will be safe there! I will find Clarke."

The two waste no time in tugging sharply on their horse's reigns, causing them to rear as they turn, galloping away from Camp Jaha, without a second look. The Commander rips her sword from its sheath, turning back towards Finn. She holds a look that tells him, he should fear her. She moves slowly, in her battle stance, towards her horse. Although she is walking backwards, her balance does not fail her, her stance, not once, wavers. Her horse, as if she had seen The Commander do this so many times before, trots to stand before her, allowing The Commander to haul herself onto the stallions back without turning her back on the enemy.

"I will come for you, _Fin kom Skaikru._ " The Commander spits as she turns into the forest.

Finn watches her ride away, with a smirk on his face. The Commander will not find Clarke because Clarke does not want to be found by her, only him. But he will not look for her this time, he has other plans.

The Commander rides for hours, her muscles are aching and she is tired, she is hungry but she will not relent. She cannot help but think, think that if she had done something differently back at the mountain, Clarke would not be in this mess. Clarke would be in Polis with her, in her arms, in her heart, in her bed. She lets her mind wonder, allowing her subconscious to put her into bed with Clarke, to think of what she might do to her. A whimper sounds from the space before her. The Commander, snapping back into reality, wonders if it might have belonged to her, until it sounds again. She tugs sharply on her horse's reigns, causing her to startle into a gallop.

She nears the sound, her heart beating in her chest. It sounds human and it sounds hurt. She wants so badly to find Clarke, but part of her hopes that this is not her. The sound seeps into her ears, so loud and so agonised that when she reaches the source, she has to lift her hand to her mouth, to hide her shock. It is Alphege, one of The Commander's most trusted warriors. A single tear forms in her eye as she looks down on his lifeless form. Blood surrounds him, not one inch of his body is spared from the thick substance. His face is pushed into the dirt, and he has stopped struggling. The Commander approaches her warrior, gently turning his body so that she could see the damage. She almost wishes she hadn't when the sight before her makes her heave.

His eyes are missing, black voids sit where they once were. Several gashes lay across his face, one trails from the bottom of where his left eye used to sit, down to the bottom of his cheek. It curves onto his chin, adjacent to a slit in his lips, it starts between his lips, curving up into the right side of his face. The flesh of the cut spreads, showing the bone beneath. Yellow puss seeps from each and every wound, causing The Commander to swallow the bile rising in her throat. She cannot see the extent of his wounds, blood and puss cover his body, merging hundreds of cuts into one. She kneels beside him, allowing weakness to spill from her eyes as she stares down at his once beautiful face. She jumps as a loud, sharp breath crawls through the air.

"Alphege?" The Commander speaks, visibly frightening the man. He quickly recovers.

"C-Commander, I have s-seen her." He croaks, choking on his own blood.

"Save your breath." She laces a hand in his matted locks, stroking the blood soaked braids that sit atop his head. He refuses to listen.

"I h-have seen C-Clarke." He gasps. "She heads towards _Azgeda_ , you must s-stop her, Commander."

The Commander nods once, ready to stand when he speaks again.

"T-There is one m-more thing you m-must know, Commander. _Fin kom skaikru_ , h-he has done something to h-her."

"I am aware, Alphege, and he shall-,"

"N-No, Commander," he interrupts, "There is s-something b-beneath…"

His breathing becomes shallow and his head falls into the dirt beneath him. His whole body goes limp and The Commander can see that he can no longer speak. Whatever he wanted to tell her about Clarke, she would have to work out herself. She is not willing to let one of her warriors use their last breath, to warn her of what a silly sky boy has done. The Commander will find Clarke, and she will save her, whatever it takes. She pulls her dagger from her boot, her face hardening.

" _Yu gonplei ste odon."_ She whispers as she holds the blade to his throat, dragging it towards her body. Alphege makes no noise and neither does The Commander as she mounts her horse.

Images of his body shuddering under her blade, the soft touch of his hand atop hers makes her heart swell and her eyes water. She suppresses the images and the feelings and gently kicks her horse, sending her galloping in the direction of the Ice Nation. It is a four hour ride, but a seven hour walk and she is just hoping that Clarke has walked, although she's not quite sure where Clarke would get a horse from. The Commander rides until her back is sore and her legs are aching. She has not stopped riding for three hours now, and still, no sign of Clarke. She sighs, looking around at the earth before her. The Commander had not noticed the beauty of the world before Clarke fell from the sky, perhaps it was because Clarke had brought that beauty with her.

Images of blonde hair and blue eyes engulfed her vision. She pictures Clarke, with her hair cascading over her shoulders, the way it had done since their first meeting in TonDC. She always looks the same, but never has her beauty faltered. The Commander had let Clarke confuse her, mess with her head, her thoughts, from the moment she refused to leave her to the _puana._ Clarke had been the first person to truly care for her, whether it was for her people, or for herself, anyone else would have left her to the _puana,_ but Clarke did not. The Commander had stayed awake that night, looking over the blonde woman, so young, so naïve, yet so… perfect. This was the moment Clarke's beauty seeped into The Commander.

She watched blonde waves settle atop her sleeping form, her arms tucked into her chest. Her steady breathing shifting her body ever so slightly. The way she barely moved in her sleep, but mumbled names and phrases that The Commander could not comprehend. She listened to the light snoring escaping the woman's desirable lips. Her cheeks, chubby and red, brought a smile to The Commander's lips as they moved with her nose as she wiggled it. She looked like a baby rabbit, just born, learning her senses. Her curves were clearly visible as she lay on her side in the dirt.

The Commander sits outside the gates of _Azgeda,_ all images of Clarke seeping out of her brain, crawling back to where she convinces herself that they should be. Nowhere. She takes a deep breath, preparing herself for the most uninvited, unwelcomed conversation she may face in her lifetime. She is ready to open her mouth to speak when she hears something. It sounds almost like an echoed, distorted cry. She ignores it, clearing her throat to speak, when she hears it again. This time, it is louder and sounds more human.

" _Heda_?"

She ignores the man standing before her, not noticing the open gate as she tugs on her horse's reigns, steering her in the opposite direction. Her heart is pounding in her chest for the second time that day. She hears the noise again and it becomes clear to her, now. The noise is someone throwing up, a woman, throwing up. Her palms are sweaty and her heart feels as though it will beat out of her chest at any minute. The woman doesn't sound healthy, but this time, she hopes it is Clarke. She needs to see her, whether she is okay or not, she needs to see her. The Commander's horse stops as the cover of the trees disappears, leaving them in the open. Grass covers the floor on which the woman is laying. She has no doubt in her heart, in her mind as she gasps her next words.

"Clarke…"


End file.
